Quotes About Mystery

Think of Area X as a murderer we're trying to catch." "Oh great, that's just great, now we've got a detective on staff, too.

They found what some might call a preternatural silence.

Some things remain mysterious even if you think about them all the time.

May 6. No prott. But I have been having very odd thoughts.

We knew that members of the second expedition to Area X had committed suicide by gunshot and members of the third had shot each other.

wanted—I needed—to know that I had indeed seen him, not some apparition conjured up by the Crawler, and I clutched at anything that would help me believe that. What convinced me the most wasn't the photograph—it was the sample the anthropologist had taken from the edge of the Crawler, the sample that had proven to be human brain tissue.

But rather than looking forward to reading that account, I felt as if I were stealing a private diary that had been locked by his death.

A faint pulse of red light blinked on and off, too high to be coming from anything other than a container ship. But too irregular to be anything but handheld or jury-rigged. In the right location on the horizon to be coming from Failure Island, perhaps from the ruined lighthouse. Blinking out a code he didn't recognize, a message from Henry that he didn't want to receive.

Although nothing has yet come out of the sea, from the ruined village figures have emerged and headed for the Tower.

Control's mother often seemed to him like a flash of light across a distant night sky.

All of the things that wore you down, even as that was balanced by the electric feeling of being on the side of a border where you knew things no one else knew.

The photo had been taken by a member of the Séance & Science Brigade about a week or two before the Event that had created Area X. The photographer had gone missing when the border came down. It remained the only photo of Saul Evans they had, except for some shots from twenty years earlier, well before he'd come to the coast.

Jeff VanderMeer

Una piscina. Una bahía rocosa. Una parcela vacía. Un faro. Una torre. Estas cosas son reales y no lo son. Existen y no existen.

The Séance & Science Brigade, which had operated along that coast since the fifties, had been obsessed with the twin lighthouses.

He sat up abruptly in bed, stifled another cough. Someone was in his lighthouse. More than one person. Whispering. Or maybe even shouting, the sound by the time it infiltrated the brick and stone, the wood and steel, brought to him through a distance, a time, that he couldn't know. The irrational thought that he was hearing the ghosts of dozens of lighthouse keepers all at once, in a kind of threnody, the condensed chorus of a century. Another phantom sound?

Where lies the strangling fruit that came from the hand of the sinner I shall bring forth the seeds of the dead to share with the worms that Ã¢â'¬Â¦

As we descended into the tower, I felt again, for the first time in a long time, the flush of discovery I had experienced as a child. But I also kept waiting for the snap.

Ci sarà un fuoco che conosce il tuo nome.

El pájaro fantasma acababa de hallar a su espectro, en una pila inexplicable de espectros varios

the Séance & Science Brigade

A voice came to him as if from a dark, empty well lined with moss. A voice saying his name, telling him to answer a question.

Was it a tiny shifting spiral of light?

into the path of a motored vehicle on the same day Janice seems to have finished her account. Supposedly, a wooden foot was found near the scene, but the body was too badly mangled to be identifiable.